Savior
by Intangibly Yours
Summary: A collection of loosely related one-shots. It starts with them getting stuck in a closet. Sorina. Rated M for later chapters.


**Savior**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Shokugeki no Soma! Too poor for that~

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"Ow! Y-Yukihira, you're stepping on my toes!"

"Geez, Nakiri, maybe if your feet weren't so fat, we'd have a little more room."

"My feet are not _fat_!"

"Shhh!"

Erina is still not quite sure how she ended up in the position she is currently in. Her back is pressed against a wall and Soma is looming over her from the front. His left hand is now covering her mouth, him muttering something about her being too loud, as he appears to be listening to what's occurring outside. The space is cramped. She can feel the cold metal of a bucket next to her ankle and a couple of brooms and mops rest in the corner, threatening to collapse on her if she even so much as breathe on them. Her and her companion's legs are staggered against each other, her arms on his chest and his free hand situated next to her head to keep him from crushing her. Her face is a burning shade of red, but even she would have a hard time discerning that in this dark closet.

Yes. She, Nakiri Erina, is stuck inside a closet with none other than her arch nemesis, Yukihira Soma. She's starting to feel like one of the protagonists in the shoujo manga she reads, except she doesn't have an undying crush on her closet-mate.

Really. She hates him.

One minute they are running from her father's minions, and the next, she finds herself jerked into the janitorial closet and the light becoming nothing but a mere sliver at the bottom of the door. It takes her eyes a few minutes, along with some toe stomping, to adjust to the darkness, but when it does, she sees his golden orbs staring rather intently down at her.

She's tempted to screech and push him away, but the risks outweigh any outcome she could reasonably expect. There are still footsteps scurrying up and down the hall, and one of the mops seem to have inched closer to her. Erina settles for swallowing her spit instead, an action that does not go unnoticed by the redhead.

"What's wrong, Nakiri?" he smirks, "Am I making you nervous?" Mischief dances in his eyes as he finally uncovers her mouth.

"As if!" she sputters, struggling to keep her voice low. "Maybe if you were the last man on Earth, but you are far from being anything that mighty!"

"Hmm...Are you admitting that I at least have some 'might' then?"

"Absolutely not!" She crosses her arms and looks away, but the whip of her hair causes the supplies in the closet to rattle ever so slightly. She freezes and Soma snickers in response.

"Careful, Nakiri, you wouldn't want to draw attention to us now, would you?" If possible, he leans even closer to her, his breath blowing gently on her ear. "Not only would we get caught, but could you imagine what people would think if they saw us like _this_?"

Erina is sure that her heart is hammering loud enough to get them caught anyway (from adrenaline - not because she likes him!), but drops her arms and tries to flatten herself against the wall to put more space between them. He merely raises an eyebrow at her futile efforts, ignoring the lump in his throat.

Soma is not quite sure what to do with the knotty feeling in his gut, but he knows it gets more potent the longer he's in this enclosed space with the blonde. The closet had looked bigger on the outside when he came up with this ingenious plan, and he hadn't counted on being pretty much sandwiched to her. With her arms now out of the way, her well-endowed chest presses squarely against his. He can't tell if she has noticed this particular detail, but it certainly isn't in his genes to miss it.

Erina _definitely_ feels the way her chest is rather crushed against his, considering the buttons on her blouse are strained, preparing to pop, and her striped bow is crooked and loosening. She doesn't want to make it obvious just in case he overlooks it, and tries to keep her breathing shallow as to not cause more friction. She may have succeeded if she hadn't caught the way his eyes seem to have darkened, going from a bright yellow to a molten gold. She also doesn't miss how his gaze drops from her face to her...

This time, she shoves his face away from her and pushes him into the opposite wall. "Y-Yukihira! Stop looking, you p-pervert!" she whispers frantically. While he doesn't go far, she takes the opportunity to refold her arms across her bosom, shooting him a dirty look in the process.

Soma inwardly groans. Not only is his face surely sporting a red hand print, but her cleavage has become _much_ more apparent now that her arms are taking up space between them. Has she realized...?

"N-Nakiri," he starts hesitantly, moving precariously to cover his face with his own hand, "Your uniform."

"What?" Erina glances down, and to her horror, finds her bow completely untied and the upper part of her bust readily exposed, plump and practically screaming for attention.

He can literally see the color drain from her face and her brain momentarily short-circuiting, but it's what he knows she'll do next that has dread sinking into his gut. Her lips are opening and closing like a feeding fish and he can almost hear the glass-breaking screech that's bubbling in her throat.

Many things happen within the next five seconds. Soma thrusts his hand forward to cover her mouth, but there isn't much either of them can do in such a tight space that wouldn't affect the objects residing in the closet. The brooms and mops begin to tip over and his hand immediately redirects its course to catch them. However, the momentum forces his body forward, causing his knees to bump unmercifully into hers. Erina's legs collapse, her eyes wide and her body bracing for impact, any intentions of screaming now saved for her fall. Soma's free arm sweeps around her waist and tugs her firmly to his torso, veritably knocking the breath out of her but still holding her upright. Both of them freeze as they strain their ears to listen to the noise outside.

 _"What was that?"_

 _"I think it was coming from that classroom over there!"_

 _"We already looked over there for them!"_

 _"Well, check again! Maybe they changed hiding places! Go before they escape!"_

There's shuffling on the other side of the wall closest to Soma. He pushes lightly the other way, very effectively trapping Erina between her wall and him, his head nearly resting on hers, but neither of them seem to care for the proximity for the time being. It is only when they hear, _shit, that may have been a diversion; check in the next building,_ do they both release the breaths they've been unknowingly holding. They don't dare to attempt escape even as the footsteps fade from their vicinity.

"Let's wait a few more minutes before we get out of here. Just in case one of them is lingering," Soma whispers. Erina murmurs her agreement, but it's precisely how close she sounds that alerts him.

He jerks his face down only to meet her hypnotizing fuchsia orbs. Her eyes are still large from the succession of events, lips parted to speak, but her words seem to have died on her tongue. With his lack of retort, he supposes his did as well.

Their noses are just centimeters away from touching, allowing him to see the pink tint staining her cheeks, even in the dark. She looks pretty, he thinks, with her fierce sideburns framing her face and an unguarded expression. It's extremely rare for her to be around him and not be completely flustered or, at the very least, hurling insults at him, but he surely isn't complaining. She looks a bit confused, but otherwise, quite accepting of him. After all, she hasn't moved from her position either. Her hands are placed on his shoulders for support, but she's already so tightly held against him that he can't even see past the collar of her shirt. Should anyone walk in on them at this precise moment, they would look like lovers in an intimate embrace.

Erina knows it's sound enough for them to shift into a more convenient position, and everything in her brain is telling her to do just that. Yet something in her heart aches to not leave his arms. When was the last she was held like this? So gingerly and with no ill intents? The only touch she can recall is that of Azami's, whose hands were cold and sought to harm. But Soma is warm, his hold secure. In a way, he reminds her of her favorite cup of hot chocolate on a winter day, the one with a pinch of vanilla and a dash of nutmeg. It makes her feel safe and she doesn't want to let that go.

She tries to advise herself that this is not, in fact, a shoujo manga where she is the heroine and Yukihira Soma is the hero tasked with the objective to save her. That even allowing herself to be in this predicament is foolish and irresponsible on her behalf, and no matter how much comfort she's presently taking from his support, she needs to not be caught up in it.

But really, what is she to do when he's looking at her like _that_? That smoldering gaze that makes her already unstable knees weaker and her buckled legs tremble? Not to mention the way the tails of his headband are caressing her thighs, teasing her skin with their feathery touch. It makes her wonder if his fingers would be just as warm as he if they were to run along the side of her legs...

Soma feels her hands tense, presumably to push him away, but is surprised when they only fist into the jacket of his uniform. He takes that as encouragement - to do what, he's still not entirely sure - and half-consciously steadies the cleaning tools back into their corner. With the same state of mind, he rests his hand on her shoulder blade and watches intriguingly as a shiver runs down her back, her eyes widening a fraction more.

They aren't lovers and the embrace is purely accidental, but he finds himself inching closer to her nevertheless. She smells like honey and cinnamon, and he'd be lying if he says he isn't tempted to taste her. Her cherry lips are smooth and glossed over, her breath fanning his face like an invitation. He pauses when he's millimeters away, to gauge her reaction, and when she shows no signs of rejection, he melds his mouth to hers.

The kiss is slow initially, simply the shy touching of lips. He briefly pulls back to see her gazing at him through half-lidded eyes, but then her lips purse, a determined look glazing over, and she makes use of her grip on his uniform to tug him to her again. This time, their lips crush together, hands becoming bolder and grasping tighter. They're a bit clumsy at first, but it hastily becomes a battle to see who learns quicker.

Erina is sure that their current actions are in no way appropriate, especially for someone of her stature, but she'd be damned if she lost this battle of tongues. It's in her namesake to win, after all. So she fights for dominance, her tongue invading the cavern of his mouth and dancing exquisitely around his. He responds to her advances with just as much fervor, just enough aggression to tell her that he isn't one to back down from a challenge; it absolutely thrills her. She plants her feet for leverage, arms snaking up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. If she thought he was warm before, he's burning hot now, and she can't get enough.

Soma takes their battle into her mouth, loving the way she moans when he nips at her lower lip. She tastes just as he imagined, only better - a combination of the purest flavors he could easily become addicted to. When he feels her balance waver, he takes the opportunity to grab her by her thighs and hoist her up against the wall. Her legs wrap instinctively around his waist and her hands bury themselves in his hair. He groans when she squeezes him, his trousers suddenly become tighter, and tears away from the kiss. "Fuck, Nakiri-"

He's panting hard, his callous hands still gripping her thighs, as he leans into the crook of her neck. She blinks a couple of times, a bit shocked and still a little dazed, and looks worriedly at him. "Y-Yukihira?"

"Just give me a minute," he grunts into her neck. His breath tickles her skin and she attempts to suppress the wave of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. After a few moments, he gently lowers her feet to the ground, then pulls back to give her an endearing smile. "Ah, sorry. Just didn't, uh, want us to get carried away," he says bashfully, one hand scratching the back of his head, but the other remains situated on her hips.

She nods at his explanation, embarrassment hitting her like a ton of bricks. She doesn't know what caused her to be so bold, only that she thoroughly enjoyed it. Still, to think she, Princess of Totsuki, made out with the infamous, overly egotistical, transfer student! She would never be able to live it down if anyone were to find out.

She slaps his hand away and immediately begins to fix her clothing. He shoots her an offended look, yanking his hand back, and proceeds to do the same.

"No one will ever know about this," Erina demands tersely as she buttons her blouse to the top, practiced fingers looping her red and black ribbon into a bow. "If you ever tell anyone, I'll-I'll-"

"You'll what?" Soma grins, tightening his headband around his wrist. "Yell at me? Expel me?" He brings his lips to her ears, their cheeks brushing lightly. "Ravish me? Because you were certainly enthusiastic about it a moment ago."

Her face heats up like a thermometer detecting a fever - god, how insufferable can he be? - and she begins pounding on his chest. "Pervert!" He simply laughs at her accusation, catching her fists before straightening back up and turning to the door.

"I guess we should go now. If no one found us during...that...then I assume we're safe."

Erina huffs at him, but agrees nonetheless. She's prepared to follow him out when she notices his hand staying hovered above the knob.

"What are you waiting for?"

"It's just...I'm not sure what to expect now that I'm the last man on Earth," he shrugs, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. Erina's cheeks puff up, eyes set aflame as she grabs the nearest mop and swings it at him.

"S-Stupid Yukihira!"

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 **Word Count:** 2514

 **A/N:** My goal was to get this out by my birthday and ta-da, today's the day! AH~ I really hope this turned out alright. Real cliché trapped-and-made-out-in-a-closet theme, but there's so little fics in this fandom now that I thought adding to it would be good.

Again, this story is a collection of loosely related one-shots. Each can stand on its own but there is an order to them. In actuality, this whole thing is a prequel for a chapter fic I'm planning to write, but we'll see if I get that far! I hope you all enjoyed it! Please review! I would love some feedback, including constructive criticism. Feel free to make notes of grammatical errors; I don't have a beta reader and would like to add the edits when I upload the next part.

Thanks for reading!

-Intangibly Yours


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